Through the Night
by Potosynthesis
Summary: Christine is a beautiful, smart, and troubled girl. Her father a drunk, her mother practically lives at work, and she is getting into the wrong crowd...who can help her? EC RR if you want
1. Forever Darkness

Christine Daae walked slowly down the all-too familiar path to the hospital. She had gone there countless times, but only 3 of them were for herself, and those times weren't even her fault. The young girl questioned how her father had gotten to the hospital, this was a new record for him. It seemed like only hours before, Christine's tired father had quickly taken a bite of the dinner Christine worked so hard on, before rushing off to the bar to get drunk...again.

Christine was a nice young girl. To everyone at her school, she was "one of the most popular girls in school." She didn't even know how she got that name. Yes, she was pretty, prettier than most of the girls in her class, and she most definitely was the smartest and most gifted student, but she had never been that open with her fellow pupils. She was like most teens, but at the same time totally different.

"Good evening, Christine!" The secretary, Ashley, greeted Christine, before handing her the key to her fathers room of occupancy. "What's wrong this time?" Christine asked. "He took some quaaludes. Just had to have his stomach pumped. He is good now, though."

With this new information, Christine began to walk slowly down the hallway.

The hospital itself was very nice. The walls were blue, and there was carpet on the floors. Everybody was nice, and each room came with a personal nurse, a couch, bed, lamp, and they supplied all reading and writing material. It seemed as if it was more of a hotel or an apartment building than a hospital.

_201_ She looked at the key, which stated the room in search was 220. Glancing at her pocket watch, she noticed how late it was already. _Damn! I have to finish my report!_

_206 _Putting her watch back, she saw a gleam of red by her wrist. _Never again, not ever again._

_212 _As she began to get tempted, she decided to start with the rubber bands. She quietly took one out of her pocket and put it around her wrist, right by her vein.

_216_ The rubber band wasn't working. She quickly tried once more, but pulled it too far, and when she let go, blood began to pour. _Damn! That hurt!_ The blood quickly stopped and Christine put the band away.

_219 _Almost there, one more room.

_220 Last chance to leave and forget him._ He can come back when he wants. No, she must face him. _Why?_ Why not? _No, leave here, go to Meg's house. You can pretend you never got that call, leave him here to die._ NO! He is my papa, somewhere inside there is the man I used to love! She stood outside the door for some time, hand on knob, standing, thinking, having a battle with herself, standing, thinking some more. Perfect silence. Perfect tranquility, perfect time, time stood still. The blood began to pour again, droplet after droplet falling to the perfectly red carpet, sinking in, standing still for eternity.

Stepping away from the door, she quickly walked down the hall, out the door, and down the street to the park.

**A/N sorry bout such a short chapter! I don't care if you don't review, just knowing that I have a hit is pay enough for writing this story. Next chapter will be longer, I promise! Great thanks go to TrulySheena, my wonderful beta. She didn't get to do this chapter, but whatever. Come back for chapter 2!**


	2. Into the Smoke

**A/N Hey! YAY! 2 People reviewed! I know I said you didn't have to, but it still makes me feel good. Ok, I don't really know about this chapter. I think it might not be as dramatic as you guys like, but hey, I'm not really...into...drugs...just rock music. So any way, hang out, have fun, ROCK ON, and of course, READ!**

**Special thanks to TrulySheena, Christine06 and Animegirl51, my three truly amazing betas. Thanks, you guys!**

"Christine?" Ashley said as Christine rushed out of the hospital. The blood kept trickling down her index finger, like a snake in the sand, a wire, being pulled and pushed, choosing to go to the laptop or the wall, slurring through the air. It seeped under her nail, as her whole finger began to turn red. Where to go? She couldn't go to Meg's house; Mrs. Giry would go crazy, thinking her father was just a victim. Where should she go? In the bag, there was only her credit card, her keys, a light blue cell phone, and _'no...'_ IT was there, the one thing which ruined her life, made her loose her boyfriend, her best friend, and become all-too-close to Mrs. Queen Bee of Jordon High. IT, the one thing she wanted to disappear, the compass which has held a place in her daily ritual since that night...that night...

Slowly creeping away from the streetlights, Christine quickly took IT out, pressed it to her pale skin, and sliced, slowly creeping towards that natural high which comes from knowing you control the pain. _So much for 'never again'..._

The blood dripped down, creating rouge ribbons around her hand as she silently danced her dance.

Then, the blood stopped.

The pain went away, the high became a low, the control, disintegrated...and only perfect silence remained for a minute, an aura of happiness before it disappeared into nothingness...and still more natural high needed.

Christine quickly packed all of her supplies up and headed out of the alleyway, down to nowhere. Where to go? She had the money, the connections, now all she had to do was choose her place. The bar? The school hang? No, of course, the alleyway, the place where her true friends are, the people who saw past the grades, popularity, and realized she was nothing more than one of the millions specs of dirt on this world, begging for release from the same world, but still hoping to stay close to where the release is, on earth.

She walked towards the alleyway, like a moth to a flame, a spider in the night, a piece of sand in the sieve, falling, falling away from the world...

Then she was there.

* * *

Smoke filled her senses and clouded her mind. Suddenly, she was in a world all her own, a world where death didn't matter, in fact it came swiftly and welcome. She could have died in that moment and fully lived, she would have opened hr arms to the sweet smell of rotting flesh. Nothing really mattered to her. Anyone could see.

"What are you doing here?" a man who Christine could not see through the fog, asked her.

"Nothing really matters to me." was her reply. Though she couldn't see the man she was talking to, 3 feet in front of her, she could clearly see a man walking towards her. He was tall, maybe 7 feet tall. There was a little stubble, probably 3 or 4 days worth. He passionately a wig, which nobody but her realized that. His skin was lightly tanned, and, she must admit, was very handsome. The only problem she could find was a black mask, like one a 12 year old would wear to scare the girl he has a crush on, covering his whole face, only leaving space for his eyes and mouth.

Quite frankly, it scared Christine to death

Quite frankly, the man itself scared her to death.

He was coming closer to her, closer...soon she could smell the whisky on his breath...oh how that smell seemed so familiar to her now, much more than a mere 3 weeks ago. Before everything seemed to play out like an opera, where everybody lost. Oh, how she wished she could go back to a time that seemed like lifetimes ago, when in reality it was only a few weeks. She shuddered at how much she had grown in 3 weeks.

She shuddered at the thought that it had only been 3 weeks.

3 weeks since she lost all hope.

3 weeks since her life came crashing down.

3 weeks since she first met the man who stood before her.

3 weeks since she started questioning life.

3 weeks since she started cutting herself.

3 weeks...since she was raped.

* * *

Ah, how 3 weeks could seem a lifetime, yet seem a day. It was amazing, Christine had grown so much, yet gained no knowledge in the process.

* * *

Ah, what a beauty she was. She was brave, not only for moving on, but for surviving. She was so beautiful, so pure, so unknowing. He had kissed her passionately, like so many before her. He didn't even recall her face, but he could recall that look anywhere...

The look of pure hate.

He didn't care for her, no, in fact e was only here to see the final effect. Countless girls, countless times. Sometimes they would come willingly, sometimes it was force. Always a girl, always brown hair, brown eyes, always 16, always a virgin, though they never left that club that way. He said this one was chosen the same way, but no, it was her smile that he felt he had to rip frm her pretty little face.

Always for 3 weeks afterward, he would follow the girls around, seeing how they changed, loving how he had caused it. Some killed themselves, too far into insane to ever come back out. Some died, some just began to hate life. All in 3 weeks, like a growth spurt. When and if the women to be did die, he would always be there, at their funerals, smiling, knowing he caused it, laughing because he caused it. Loving the quiet sobbing from the parents, the friends, the people who had love to give to that person. Hoping they would give it back.

A life ruiner he was...a life ruiner named Erik Silkeua..


	3. Rape Me

**A/N Ok, I changed my mind. I really do want you to review, all of you. Please, just, please. Seriously, I see that 116 people read chapter 1, and 29 read chapter 2, but did those people really like the story? That is my question, so please, EVERYBODY, review. Even if you gave up on it 2 sentence in, please review. I really want to know what I should work on, and if you did like it, I am very happy. Please, if you don't really care, it means a lot to me, just put "I didn't like it. Probably because it is boring" and then I will review, saying I will try and make it better, and you have helped my writing. Thanks a bunch! **

**I always love to know when someone likes my writingErik's Chris, Christine06, liVe-yOur-fAntasY, bizzebie It really helps me go on with a new chapter, because sometimes I feel like my writing is very 2nd grade-ish, going on and on, but really I take my inspiration from Ray Bradbury, but sometimes on this site you just want to get on with the story. I just want to tell you, this story will fall out of the whole rape/drugs thing, and move along like other stories. Please help me to make this story great, because if I read your story, I ALWAYS review, unless they have 2 chapters a day, then I only review for the 1st one. I hope you guys liked my little Queen(A ROCK BAND, DUH) addition in chapter 2. **

**Thanks once again to my Betas, TrulySheena, AnimeGirl51, and Christine06, even though it feels like Christine06 is sometimes the only one helping me. Sorry about such a long chapters note!**

**On to Chapter 3(don't worry Erik has...issues...but they will be fixed!)**

**Chapter 3**

**3 weeks, 4 days, 2 hours, 8 minutes, and 24 seconds later**

Christine couldn't believe it. _He _was there, the life ruiner. But she couldn't say she blamed him. In his eyes, she could see the same thing she saw when she looked in the mirror. _Pain, hate, sorrow. _It all became clear to her, he had just wanted other people to understand. To understand how sad he felt. But why? Why did he feel these things? _It lies behind the mask. Beyond the mask._ There is more to this man, she believed he said his name was Erik, than what lies on his face. It is what lies behind what lyes on his face, and what is that? _His face itself. _Not really understanding, but at the same time understanding it all, Christine realized something. She wanted off. She wanted off the crazy ride called life. She was about to throw up, and why? Because of this man, the one who is making her want to get off, but is the one making her stay on.

Erik walked past Christine, pretending not to notice her. Pausing a moment, he whispered to the young girl.

"My experiment with you is over. Pity, you could have been so different than the other girls, but you ended up the same, too far into insanity to come out. Your father is rotting away as we speak, and right now your phone is ringing, it is the police station. Your mother is dead. She died on her way to the hospital to pick up your father. I am dreadfully sorry. Like I said, you could have been different, but at least you survived."

Christine shuddered at the thought that he had done this to other girls. How many other girls, exactly? She also shuddered at the thought that some of those girls had died-killed themselves possibly, likely. Oh, the way he had touched her, made her feel special, wanted. She was 16, yet she was more of a women than her own mother, who may possibly have been dead, all her fault. Her father, sleeping in that hospital, all her fault. Her ex-boyfriend, resting at home with a broken leg, all her fault. Everything was her fault, now. The blood didn't help, the droplets were turning grey. She needed a new solution, the easy way out, nothing can help her, nothing, except maybe...

"Hey, can I have a joint?"

* * *

_Silently sitting at a table in the corner with Meg, her best friend, and Ralf, her boyfriend. Her chestnut curls bouncing freely on her shoulders as she took a rather long sip from her Dr. Pepper. So bored, she didn't even think 2 times before going to dance with the first person who asked her. On Ralph's face, first a look of shock came. Once he realized it was nothing more than a dance, he went back to sipping his beer. If only he had stopped the young girl then, he would have stopped the whole tragedy from happening, and maybe have saved a life or two._

_

* * *

_

Smoke filled Christine's senses now more than ever, sending her to a world all her own. She couldn't control what she said, who she talked to, what she did. Soon she found herself

explaining the details of her rape to a 20-something year old man with a mustache and another joint, the twin to her own. The last thing she had control to do before she entered the grand world of natural high, was call her house to tell her mother she would be home late, only to receive an answer of nothingness on the other line. Nobody was home.

**A/N Review please! I know it probably isn't as good as some of you would have liked, so if anybody has some advice, please tell me! I would be happy to redo this chapter, and I know it is short, but it is really a filler between the cutting and stuff and the romance. I hope you all enjoyed!**


	4. Authors Note

**A/N I think I might redo chapter 3...I was in a rush to get it out plus my beta writers...all three of them...were offline and could not help me at all. They are like my lifelines, and I am afraid I lost the 50,000 dollars on that last chapter. I am sorry to you all if it didn't grip you the way I would have liked, but, as I told you before, I was working on nothing. If anyone would like to help, I would be more than happy to take the constructive criticism and redo chapter 3. I need the help. Also, so sorry about the very long authors notes and the very short chapters. This story is based off a TV show with airs in Canada and America. 3 of the most famous episodes have already taken place, and I will give an honorable mention to anyone who can name the TV show, and which characters it happened to. **

**Here is what I think should happen in the story until chapter 8, feel free to help improve anything in this time line:**

**chapter 4:Christine goes to live with Meg**

**Chapter 5: Meg pressures Christine into therapy**

**Chapter 6:Therapy and school**

**Chapter 7:Erik and Christine meet face to face again and Christine finds out Erik's past**

**Chapter 8: Christine recalls the night of her rape**

**I wonder if that is a good map for these few chapters, please feel free to help with anything leading up to chapter 8, but 8 must be the same. I have the rest of the story mapped out, but can make some minor changes. **

**Erik's Chris, you landed right o the money. That is exactly where I am going with this. The real question is: How? I hope it isn't that easy to guess!**

**Special thanks to my amazing betas: TrulySheena, Christine06, and Animegirl51. Thanks you guys! I am the heart and organs of this story, you are the brain which controls me. **


	5. Them Both

**A/N This chapter mostly deals with Christine recalling the details of her rape, not in detail. But fear not! All will be explained later, when Christine speaks to Meg. Congrats to Erik's Chris and AngeMusique who have earned an honorable mention! YAHOO! Ok, so I think what Erik's Chris is trying to say for the time line is like this:**

**Chapter 4: Same**

**Chapter 5:Same**

**Chapter 6:Same:Mostly filler**

**Chapter 7:Sorry, but I had to keep some form of E/C meeting, because that is the reason for chapter 8. I will, however, do this. Same, except no past information, little hints...Recall night of rape to Meg**

**Chapter 8: E/C meet...again! More hints. **

**How does that sound? Ok, if anyone else has any changes to that, but I think it sounds pretty good so far. Thank you all for supporting me for my first phic. I do not own POTO, characters, plot, anything. It all belongs to all of those rich people who live in fancy houses. Damn. **

**

* * *

**

**Chapter 4: Memories of the Future**

Stopper

Walking home was a blur.

A surreal, multicolored blur. It was perfectly silent, yet it was so noisy Christine thought her head would explode. Her house was just 3 blocks away, or was it 5? She didn't know anymore. Once the pain in her head began to settle down, she came face to face with the police. There had to be 8 police cars and an ambulance, but Christine wasn't sure, she was too lost in her own world to count.

"What happened?" Christine asked one of the policemen. 'God I hope he doesn't realize I just took drugs...' she thought.

"Private information, sorry." the officer informed. Christine felt weak, she checked her pulse, but she could feel nothing. Just thinking it was the drugs, she continued her walk, staring at the wrecked car, until she noticed it was _her _car. Quickly, she checked to make sure the licence plate was right, then ran over to the police officer again.

"Excuse me, I think that is my car. Who was driving it?" she asked.

"Can't tell you. Private." Defeated, she walked over to the park, sat on a bench, and called Meg's cell.

_Ring._ Nothing one the other line. _I'm crazy, ever since that night...I will always be crazy._

_Ring._ Perfect stillness, nothing more. _Crazy, I will surely be sent somewhere. There must be a place for crazy people like me_

_Ring_. A...sound?

"Hello?" the cheery voice of Meg, Christine's lifelong friend, answered.

"Meg, is your mother there?" Christine asked.

"Christine, yes, she wants you to come over right away, your mother is dead.

* * *

"My mother is...De-ad?" Christine echoed the words. Oh, she wished Erik wasn't right all the time. He was right all 3 times they have met. Tonight, _that _night, and...realization struck her. _He_ was actually the one who has been telling her all along it was her fault. Making her heavy with guilt. Maybe he liked the see his victims fall under the weight of the pressure. Maybe he liked the way they squirmed, kicked, yelled and pleaded when he began his experiment.

Maybe he liked it when they turned over in their graves.

* * *

"_Christine, I am not going to hurt you, I am a therapist. I am here to help you" the man who called himself her therapist reassured. For a whole week, Christine had been too frightened to leave the house_, _and when she did leave for school_, _she made sure Meg was with her. She was the only one that knew, not even her parents. Finally, Christine decided to find a therapist to tell her story to. Now, here she was, in the small, grey room that she was to find herself in fo 3 days a week, 3rd period. _

"_Well-I...it is very hard, you see. I was at a club with my boyfriend and my best friend, and we were just sitting there. This strange man with a mask over his face approached up_ _and asked me to dance. When things became too overwhelming, I tried to get away."_

"_Did you succeed?" _

"_No, well, he began kissing me. I decided I found this man nice, and I wanted to know more about him, so I asked him if we could talk somewhere...private. Then...he pushed me to the bed and began to kiss and touch me. Oh god, I was so scared. I told him to stop, but it just seemed to make him more eager. He pulled out a rubber-so considerate-and well..."_

"_Who do you blame for this, Christine?"_

"_Myself, of course! I should never have agreed to dance with him, and-" the therapist, Mr. Silkeua, stared at the you girl, no more than 17, sitting close to him. He came close to her ear and whispered with a silky voice, "Yes Christine, all your fault. You made him think you wanted him, he was having some fun, get on with your life."_

_Christie stared silently into space for a while. Finally, realizing his words were true, scattered to collect her things as she dashed for her period 4 class. _

_Sexual victims were treated like crap. No, worse, the dirt one their shoes. Yes, all of us, treated no better than the dirt on these single minded people's shoes. And what was worse? She had to live with it._

* * *

Christine hadn't gone back to therapy, but now, she realized how close Erik had been, even without that. In her own school, mingling mot more than a mere 10 yards from her. He scared her to death, and it seems he has for so many others...

But what was that feeling she had got in the pit of her stomach? Love/ No, far from it, more like the flickering hopes of love, something they both needed. What lay behind the mask? She needed answers. She needed a way she could help him...thus setting them both free.


	6. Is it love?

A/N Sorry this took so long! Ok, please read my new story...I only have achapter, and I really want a review for it...even if it sucks! Seriously. Ok on with the show...

I don't own POTO...STOP REMINDING ME

I don't own American Idol...damn...

Chapter 5

"Meg, what is love?" Christine had asked this question countless times, but all the times Meg had found a reason to not have to answer. Why? Why did she hide from her? Did she scare her?

"I will answer later, Chrissy. American Idol is on!"

"I am going to take a walk, see you later." Christine said, unenthusiastically. She quickly grabbed her bag and walked out the front door. Where should she go? The club, of course. That is where she will go...to find him. She didn't love him, no, then why did she keep asking herself that? Pity? Is that what she felt to her rapist? Pity is the only emotion she could understand? Christine wanted to find out about Erik, help him, try to understand him. She still remembered the frightening words he had said to her that night. _Understand me. _What did he mean by that?

She still had his name, that was a start. Hopefully, she can learn to understand him before another suffers the pain, which must only scrape the surface of Erik's suffering. _Erik Silkea_..._Where have I heard that name before? _Of course! Silkea...that singer Meg likes! The one who wears a mask! This was too easy...

Christine ran through a red light, almost running over a pedestrian, and made a quick U turn, heading back home.

Quietly throwing the front door open, she tip-toed up to Meg's room. It was past 11, and Meg had a strict curfew. Christine opened Meg's little blue door, decorated with pictures of rock stars, pictures of her boyfriend, her best friends, and..._Yes!_ A picture of Erik, with his signature white half mask. Christine had not seen any part of his face, but her Erik and this Erik were definitely the same person. _Why did I just call him my Erik? Since when have I had any claim on him?_ There was definitely something more than hatred or pity here, something like maybe sadness. If things were different, possibly they would have been good friends.

"_Are you frightened of me?" Erik asked as he slowly danced with Christine, beautifully perfect in her little black cocktail dress. He had been watching her for weeks, stalking her, making sure she was right, perfect. Making sure she was someone who cold understand his pain through her own._

"_Yes, a little." her small, scared voice replied._

"_That is good," Erik said, before pulling her off to his car. He remembered her asking things like "where are we going?" and "What are you doing?" He didn;t answer. Once they got into the car, he drove away to the abandoned warehouse._ _Parking outside, Erik slib a blindfold onto Christine's eyes, and led her to the heart of he warehouses many corridors and floors. Christine, knowing pretty much what was going on, remained silent, wondering why Raoul did not follow them._

"_We are going to play a little game, Christine. Don't try to run, don't scream. Nobody will hear you." Christine whimpered a little, and Erik felt proud of her. All the other girls screamed and tried to find a way to escape, but Christine just stood there, hoping she will live through this. Of all the girls, Erik felt immediately attached_ _to this young girl._ _If a person couldn't make it through this without yelling, how could they see his face without being afraid?_

"_Will I be able to go home after this?" Christine asked from her place in the corner of the small room._

"_If you follow all of the rules."_

_Christine froze, staring at the inside of the blindfold. "What are the rules?"_

"_My car is outside. I will be waiting. I am going to tie up your hands, take your blindfold off, and you will have all the time you need to get out of here."_

_Christine nodded in agreement, signaling for him_ _to continue._

"_If you try to escape into the woods, I will find you. You see, I have a 6th sense. If you try and escape from me, I will find you, and punish you." Christine did not believe him._

_If only she had._

Erik was just finishing up cleaning his small apartment when his producer walked in.

"Erik! I have bad news! There has been a rapist out, who goes by your name. He has raped 32 young women, and 4 of them have killed themselves. I am afraid this will hurt publicity.

I set up an interview so you can deny everything. It is in 2 hours."

"I will be ready." was his reply. Then he went back to cleaning his room. His life had been boring since leaving Christine. Sure, they weren't going out, he had raped her! But her life was so fun, so full of life. It was wonderful to watch it fall apart, all because of him.

Her blood seemed redder than everyone else's. Her brown curls were more brown than all the other brunettes in the world. Oh, how he wanted her to accept him! To take him in her arms and say everything was alright. But that would never happen. He had raped her, played games with her, and ruined possibly the only chance for love he had ever had. Hell, he didn't even know her, yet he had fallen in love with her.

_Ah, look at all the lonely people._

_Ah, look at all the lonely people._

_Eleanor Rigby picks up the rice in the church _

_where a wedding has been,_

_Lives in a dream._

_Waits at the window, _

_wearing a face she keeps in a jar by the door,_

_Who is it for?_

_All the lonely people, where do they all come from?_

_All the lonely people, where do they all belong?_

_Father McKenzie, writing the words of a sermon that no-one will hear,_

_No-one comes near_

_Look at him working, _

_darning his socks in the night when there's nobody there,_

_What does he care?_

_All the lonely people, where do they all come from?_

_All the lonely people, where do they all belong?_

_Ah, look at all the lonely people._

_Ah, look at all the lonely people._

_Eleanor Rigby died in the church and was buried along with her name._

_Nobody came._

_Father McKenzie, wiping the dirt from his hands as he walks from the grave._

_No-one was saved._

_All the lonely people, where do they all come from?_

_All the lonely people, where do they all belong?_

Christine finished off the last song on his CD. He was truly a genius. A sad, problemed, genius. That was all there was to it. She was going to help him, she was going to try and understand him, she was going to show him the one thing he has never had...love. And that's all there was to it

Or so she thought.


	7. AUTHORS NOTE READ

A/N Ok now I am officially quitting writing. After a review you could call a "flame" was given to me, I am starting to believe my writing utterly and truly sucks. That person also sucks, and I have replied to said person's review in the same matter, except with MANY more words of badness...If anyone here actually likes my writing, please tell me now, because this is the 3rd review I have gotten like this, and I would have quit before, but a certain nice person(who is probably reading this) Pmed me and said those guys were jerks. Thanks for that. But I don't think that will happen this time. Does anyone here actually like my writing? If so, PM or review any of my stories.


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